


Better, Love?

by EzraTheBlue



Series: Destiny [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Canon Disabled Character, Disabled Character, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25774264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: Immediately in the aftermath of Prompto's rescue in Zegnautus Keep, Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis set about making things right for their injured friend. However, they have no idea what happened to him, and he's frightened, injured, and can't understand a word any of them are saying. Noctis and the others look for whatever resources they can muster in this forbidding place to help put Prompto back together, as Noctis finds the key to the painful truth.(Chapter 35 of Defects and Destiny, from Noctis' point of view.)
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum, Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Series: Destiny [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562773
Comments: 13
Kudos: 49





	Better, Love?

**Author's Note:**

> Warning!! This story will not make nearly as much sense unless you have read through Chapter 35 of Defects and Destiny. This story is a part of that story. 
> 
> I debated with myself for a long time over whether to include this segment of the story as a chapter, but decided it hit enough of the "not part of the main story" flags to count:
> 
> \- From Noctis' point of view  
> \- Covering an event that has occurred in the main story
> 
> So, while an integral part of the story, this is a side story. 
> 
> That said, this is canon to the story. This story contains the parts of chapter 35 Prompto couldn't hear.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> (Also: the title is yet again inspired by a Hozier song, "Better Love," which screams Promnis to me. I strongly recommend you give it a listen!)

**Better, Love?**

Noctis hustled forward towards the last bunk room he’d found, hardly able to look at Prompto hung slack in Gladio’s arms, shivering and quivering. Ignis had his hand in Prompto’s, squeezing it tight as they walked him back to the nearest bunk room. He couldn’t look at them. He couldn’t look at Prompto and Ignis with pity because this was his fault, entirely his fault. 

He’d taken them with him, he hadn’t asked Prompto or Ignis to stay behind when the trip became dangerous for both of them and the future the two of them had planned together. He had pushed Prompto. When Ignis had told him not to pursue Prompto, he’d listened, and he’d been sitting on the train for the last few days in relative comfort while Prompto had been… Prompto had been…

_Noctis didn’t even know what Prompto had been through and he hated it._

Prompto looked haggard and exhausted, eyes red-rimmed and sunken with shadows. His freckles looked faded on snow-pale skin, his bare arms were bruised and scratched, and there was a scar swiped across his nose. The worst and scariest part was that Prompto had flinched from them when they had come to rescue him, and until Ignis had managed to hold his gaze and speak to him very slowly, very carefully, he hadn’t seemed to understand anything they were saying to him. 

Ignis had cried for a moment when he held him, tears running down his face, a single sob echoing in his chest. Prompto hadn’t heard it. Noctis had. Noctis hadn’t even known Ignis could cry. 

Ignis was still talking to him, Noctis could hear it. “Can you tell me anything? Where were you? Who hurt you, darling?” Prompto was whimpering, not responding, but Noctis could see him watching Ignis’ mouth. 

He remembered what Aranea had said on the phone, about how she had been calling for Prompto when she was looking for him, but he hadn’t heard her shouting his name. Something had happened, Noctis realized. Could Prompto just not hear?

He’d blinded one of his friends and deafened another. All of Gladio’s scars came from defending him. Was this the price of being a Prince? 

It wasn’t worth it. 

They got to the bunk room, and Gladio laid Prompto down on one of the beds. Ignis didn’t let go of his hand until the position got too awkward, but Prompto cried out when Ignis’ hand slipped from his. Gladio pushed a chair next to the bed, and Ignis took it and sat, then extended his hand again.

“I’m here, darling, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Is it…” Prompto spoke weakly, voice thin, and Noctis cringed. “Is it real? Are you here?”

“Yes, love, I’m here, we’re all here.” Ignis squeezed his hand, and Noctis saw Prompto’s knuckles go white as he squeezed back.

“Prompto.” Gladio bent over him, and spoke slowly, loudly, and firmly. “I need you to calm down and tell me what happened.”

Prompto stared at Gladio, then shook his head and bit his lip. Gladio grimaced, and Noctis could see his hands working. He wanted to grab Prompto, either to crush him in a big hug or to throttle an answer out of him, Noctis couldn’t tell, but he restrained himself and turned around, tearing his fingers through his hair. “Fucking shit, I took my eyes off of him and this - I can’t fucking believe this!”

“Anger won’t solve anything. Let’s just keep calm, assess his injuries, and do what we can for him.” Ignis was clearly stressed and sad, but he was still thinking the clearest out of anyone. Noctis envied that. What sort of King would he be if he couldn’t handle a situation like this? 

“Maybe there’s a security tape from that room,” Noctis said aloud, then turned to a computer monitor on a desk in the corner of the room. The desk in this room was surprisingly well equipped, with a few odd folders left stacked in an organizer, and the computer was unlocked, primed for use. He didn’t remember any of the other employee bunk rooms looking like this, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “If there is, that can at least show us what happened to him while he was here.”

“Capital idea.” Ignis nodded sharply. “Gladio, could you do anything about getting a meal together?”

Gladio, who’d been shaking with restrained, undirected energy, gave a sharp nod. “Yeah, yeah. I can probably make some Cup Noodles or whatever in the microwave.” He spoke a little louder. “Prompto, I’m gonna get you and Junior dinner. You want chicken or shrimp flavor?”

Prompto didn’t answer, instead staring at Gladio like he had six heads. Ignis quietly answered, “The shrimp flavor is too salty for him.” 

Gladio made a guttural noise, like his voicebox was pressing against his throat to suppress a scream or a sob, but he nodded and stalked out to find a sink. Noctis, however, pulled up a chair to the computer, and with one more forlorn look at Prompto, huddled on the bed, eyes wild, Noctis dove into the computer files.

The security camera files were too easy to find, almost like a gift. Noctis found the only active recordings were of him - tearing through MTs on his way to the top of the tower. Noctis fast-forwarded through most of them to make sure there were no signs of Prompto. Behind him, Ignis kept talking to Prompto, but Prompto wasn’t answering. 

“Can you tell me where it hurts, darling?”

“Has the baby been active?”

“I missed you dearly. I take it you received my message?”

Prompto whimpered, and Noctis looked to see Ignis was still holding his hand, but caressing his belly. Noctis tore his eyes away again and watched himself approach an MT seated on a chair with its arms folded around a tattered plush chocobo.

Gladio came back, carrying a flimsy plastic tray with four Cup Noodle cups balanced there. There was something else on the tray, but Gladio stopped long enough to plunk a cup down next to Noctis but not for him to see what it was. Gladio put the tray down by the bunks, then grabbed pillows off of all of the other beds and propped them up behind Prompto, saying, “Let’s sit you up so you can eat, okay? It’s really hot.” 

“He can’t hear a word,” Ignis said in a hush. Noctis could hear the devastation in his voice. “Either he can’t hear me, or he’s too afraid to answer.”

“Well, let’s find out.” Gladio took a notepad and pen off the tray, and wrote on it. He put a huge, exaggerated smile on and showed Prompto the pad, saying aloud, “Hi! We missed you! Can you hear us?” 

Noctis turned again to watch, and saw Prompto glancing between the pad and Gladio’s face. “N… not much.”

Gladio wrote again, then showed Prompto and read, “That’s okay! We can work with this! Are you hungry?”

Prompto didn’t answer again, but Gladio, cringing but still forcing a smile, wrote again and showed Prompto. “I’m worried about you. Please eat.”

Ignis tapped Gladio’s shoulder. “Write, ‘it’s not poisoned.’” Gladio did, and Ignis repeated it, louder: “It’s not poisoned, darling, please eat.”

Prompto’s eyes went wide, and Noctis heard Ignis tell Gladio, “Ardyn wasn’t there when we had that argument.”

“You mean you think Ardyn’s been-”

Noctis got into the next set of videos. The first thing he saw was Ardyn strapping Prompto to the apparatus they'd found him on. 

“Ardyn’s been here with him,” Noctis muttered, heart sinking to the floor. “Looks like he took a personal interest.”

Noctis fast-forwarded through the video, long stretches where Prompto hung there, alone in the silence, dragged down by the heavy weight at his middle, straining and twisting half-consciously to try to find a better position. Noctis saw his mouth move, then immediately stopped, rewound, and played the video at regular speed:

_“We’re going to be okay,”_ his weak, slurred voice sounded, and Noctis’ heart ached. He sounded like he’d been screaming for hours. Ignis and Gladio had each gone stiff across the room, and Noctis could only hear the slow, hesitant slurping of Prompto eating his noodles.

Noctis watched for a few minutes longer as Prompto pulled his arms and legs as hard as he could, groaning with effort as he tried to loose himself, then went limp in his bindings. 

And he hung there, alone, twisting there even in his sleep. Noctis couldn’t bear to watch. He hit fast forward and watched the minutes tick by into hours, hours Prompto was left alone, without relief, without attention. 

“Anything interesting?” Gladio asked without pushing off the wall where he’d propped himself, watching Prompto hesitantly slurp his noodles from a distance.

Noctis shook his head. “Ardyn’s just leaving him there. He’s strung up on that T-bar.”

Gladio scoffed, shaking his head. “His back and legs must be killing him. Do we have any painkillers approved by his doctor?”

“He never complained about it,” Ignis murmured. “After I showed him that his headache medicine wasn’t safe without a doctor recommendation, he stopped taking it. Fortunately, his migraines tapered off, but if he had pain, he never asked.”

Noctis knew. Noctis knew how much pain Prompto could withstand on his own, but he’d looked like he was already at his limit when Ardyn had strapped him to that bar. He was probably only sleeping on it because he’d fallen unconscious.

Behind him, Prompto was mechanically eating his noodles. When the cup was empty, he deliberately, carefully said, “It was good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Gladio muttered, then handed Prompto a note that surely said the same. 

“Are you tired, darling?” Ignis was patting Prompto’s hand and speaking slowly, carefully, ensuring Prompto could watch his mouth. “You may sleep if you’re tired.”

Prompto leaned back, but he didn’t seem to relax even one degree. His shoulders were hunched up towards his ears, and he kept looking around suspiciously. Noctis hated to see him acting like a frightened animal hiding from a storm and waiting for the next thunderstrike. 

On the screen in front of him, Noctis saw Prompto lift his head in his bindings. Ardyn walked past the door, sauntering casually, slowly by, and Noctis saw Prompto talking, saw him shaking his arms in his bonds and straining against them again. Noctis frowned, rewound the feed, and turned the sound on:

_“Gladio, please! Help me!”_

Gladio’s eyes went wide, and Noctis practically saw his protective instincts activating. 

_“I’ll stay out of the way, I promise!”_ Prompto writhed again, and Noctis could see every muscle in his arms trembling. _“C’mon, man, please get me down! Ignis misses me, I just want to see him again!”_

Ignis lowered his face, and Gladio, displaying self control Noctis couldn’t imagine, turned and walked into the hallway. Ten seconds later, there was an echoing impact against the wall outside, and a yell:

“YOU SORRY MOTHERFUCKER, YOU USED MY FACE!”

Ignis bit his lip, then covered his face. “Oh, Prompto.” 

_“He’ll come for me,”_ Prompto whispered on screen. Noctis’ throat ached.

“Noct?” Prompto spoke up all of a sudden, and Noctis glanced back to see him white-knuckling the sheets and staring down towards his knees. “Are... you still mad at me? Do you… do you hate me?” Noctis’ heart sank into his stomach as Prompto drew his arms tight around him. “If you’re just waiting to kill me, please just get it over with.”

Noctis nearly fell out of his chair, and he scrambled across the room. “No, dammit, no!” Ignis was plainly horrified, clearly unsure of what to say. Noctis pressed himself to the bed and patted Ignis’ arm. “Gimme the pad, gimme the pad.”

Ignis flailed and found it, and Noctis took it and scrawled out the first thing he could think of: _“I LOVE YOU. I’M SORRY.”_ He underlined “sorry” a few times and showed Prompto. “It was Ardyn, whatever it was, I know it was him! I’m not - Prompto, I’d never!! You’re my best friend, and I’m sorry-” He broke into a dry sob. “I’m so sorry…”

“Noct,” Ignis said softly, “If his hearing is damaged, he will not have understood any of that. Let’s try and suss out why he thinks we’re going to kill him.” Noctis bit his lip and bowed his head, as Ignis took the pad and wrote a message to Prompto: _“We are all worried. We’re trying to help. Can you tell us what happened?”_

Prompto looked unsure. “I… are you real? I don’t know - every time I look away, I can’t know-”

Noctis understood, and wrote a message: _“Ask me anything.”_ He knew Prompto as well as he thought he could for the years he’d known him. He wished he knew more. 

Prompto mulled it over a moment, then asked, “Who had the high score on Justice Monsters V at the arcade around the corner from Noct’s place before we left Insomnia?” He glanced up. “And do you remember what it was?”

Noctis wrote his response: _“It was me. I beat your score before we left. I was going to tell you about it the next time we found a JMV machine but then Insomnia fell and I forgot.”_ Then, he yanked his phone from his pocket and found the picture. Prompto had been so damned proud when he took the leaderboard, and Noctis hated to crush his aspirations, but he had _proof._ He wasn’t Ardyn. Ardyn couldn’t have been in the Crown City to take that photograph. 

Ignis wrote something before Prompto even asked, just the word “tiny.” Noctis didn’t ask - maybe it was something just between the two of them. A nickname for the baby, a bedroom joke, he had no idea. Whatever it was, it was enough to convince Prompto, and that was all Noctis cared about. 

His gaze darted between them like a frightened fish in a net, before he sputtered out, “The baby… the baby isn’t moving-” He hitched back a sob, as Noctis’ heart sank. “They always move for Iggy’s voice - on the voice mail-”

“Darling,” Ignis whispered, and moved himself to the bed to rub Prompto’s back, little circles between his shoulder blades. “Shh, they’re surely just tired too, it’s alright, darling, it’s alright…”

Noctis realized that the thought that this misadventure had killed the baby was on Prompto’s chest like a stone, and he grimaced to himself. Prompto had clearly been buried deep in the darkest place Ardyn could find, and yet he was still digging his way up.

Noctis heard approaching footsteps, and turned to see Gladio re-enter the room, face still flushed red but the color slowly draining, carrying a first aid kit and a few washcloths. Gladio needed to be doing _something_ , Noctis figured. He was so glad that even as angry as he was, his head was clear enough to focus on doing something productive. 

Then, Gladio took the pad, wrote something, and put it in Prompto’s face. Prompto flinched back, and Noctis leaned forward and tapped Gladio on the shoulder.

“Hey,” Noctis said quietly, “He thinks we’re Ardyn.”

Gladio’s lip curled. “No shit, apparently Ardyn is good at that sort of thing.”

“Tell him something Ardyn wouldn’t know. That way, he’ll know it’s you.”

Gladio grunted and scrawled a message, then showed it to Prompto. Prompto calmed, recognition in his face. Gladio returned his attention to the first aid kit, unpacking the bandages and some swabs, but Noctis saw something in the box that he recognized from his own doctor visits as a child. A stethoscope. He remembered the doctor listening to his heart, letting Noctis listen to his own heart beat.

_“See?”_ Dad had whispered in his ear. _“That’s how you know you’re alive.”_

“Give me that!”

He snatched the stethoscope and put it on, and rushed back to Prompto’s side and handed him a note: _“Permission to listen to the baby?”_ He tucked the ends of the stethoscope in his ears, as Prompto read, then nodded so hard his hair swished around.

“Yes, yes, please, yes!”

Noctis grinned, and eased the bottom of Prompto’s shirt up. His middle was stretched, rounded, striped with fine purple lines - it was a little eerie, but Noctis knew it was just like that because his godkid was getting big in there. They needed to get big so they could come out alive, healthy, and screaming. Noctis _wanted_ to hear them screaming. For now, he’d be happy to hear they were alive. 

He moved the bell of the stethoscope around, until he heard a distinct swish and thump inside. His heart jumped into his throat - that was a heartbeat. The baby’s heart was beating. He pinned the stethoscope in place and moved the earpieces on the stethoscope to Prompto’s ears. “I really hope you can hear this.”

From the way Prompto’s whole face lit up with tearful delight, he did. “They’re alive! They’re - I can hear them, I can hear them!” He laughed and cried and squealed, so overjoyed he couldn’t contain it. Behind him, Gladio chuckled, and Ignis patted Prompto’s knee, smiling with contentment and relief. They let Prompto celebrate. It was the happiest he’d been since they’d gotten him back.

Ignis passed him a note after he calmed down, and Gladio moved in to clean and bandage the worst of his injuries. Noctis moved out of the way, his joy waning like a wave washing back down the shore.

He had to know what had Prompto so scared.

He kept fast-forwarding through the security footage, watching Prompto twist and writhe on the apparatus, until he finally saw Ardyn stroll back in. Prompto looked up, and Noctis saw his expression change. He turned the sound on:

_“Noct! You’re here! I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you!”_

_“Yeah,”_ Ardyn answered on screen, nonchalant and bored. _“I’m here.”_

Noctis’ heart sank.

Ardyn went on, _“And so are you. Finally where you belong.”_

Noctis’ heart crawled from the floor and lodged in his throat as Ardyn insulted Prompto, accused him of being an MT _(what did that even mean?!)_ , as Prompto pleaded and tried to defend himself. Ardyn accused Prompto of trying to _kill_ him, demanding, _“Were you hoping to get me away from Ignis and Gladio first, or would you do it in front of them?”_ Then, Ardyn pounded on the bars, and Prompto flinched. _“What about the baby, huh?”_

_“Th-the baby?”_ Prompto looked so scared. Noctis wanted to scream.

_“Is that another clone, like you?”_ Ardyn sneered. _“Or is that even a baby at all?”_ Noctis saw the horror spreading over Prompto’s face, and found he’d never wanted so badly to reach through a screen to strangle someone before. _“Lying to Ignis this whole time, getting his hopes up that he’d be a dad, manipulating him into accepting it, giving him something to hope for after he got hurt -”_ Prompto was silently crying now. Noctis could see the tears running down his face. _“What, were you just going to shove another nasty little clone into his arms and tell him it was his until it was old enough to kill him too? Or just vanish once you’d killed me, leaving him thinking his kid was gone forever?”_

Prompto shook his head as hard as he could. _“No! The baby is his, I swear, I didn’t force him, it’s not fake! If he doesn’t want me after he knows the truth, I’d never m-make him, and I’d never hurt you, I don’t want to hurt any of you! Please, Noct, I promise, I’d never hurt you-”_

Noctis covered his face with shame. Prompto thought that was _him._

_“How the hell do I know that?!”_ The venom was palpable. Noctis could practically taste it through the screen as Ardyn turned and began to flounce away. _“You’ve lied to me for years! I’m not going to hear it anymore. I don’t care! You’ll get dealt with when we figure out what to do with you.”_ He vanished from view, but Noctis could still hear him. _“Maybe you’ll just fall apart like all the others…”_

Noctis covered his eyes, barely wanting to watch. He peeked through his fingers as Prompto, still strung up, bit his lip, then forced himself to speak:

_“Noct... NOCT! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please, I’m good!”_ Noctis cringed as Prompto began to struggle as hard as he could against his bonds, shouting and crying out, _“You’re my brothers, my family, my only friends, I’ll never hurt you! Please!”_ He was bleeding in the footage, Noctis realized, and spun around to see the livid marks on Prompto’s wrists from how hard he’d strained at the clasps, to no avail. Finally, Prompto’s strength gave out, and he fell limp in his bonds. _“At least… at least let me give Ignis his kid… Noct, please…”_

Noctis pressed his hand over his mouth. Prompto had believed that. Sincerely. He had thought Noctis had actually said those things to him.

When he turned back to the others, he saw Prompto bandaged and asleep in the cot, his hands folded protectively over his middle. He also saw the horror in Ignis’ face and rage in Gladio’s eyes.

“When we find him,” Gladio muttered, “we’re killing him, burying him, digging him up, killing him again, and burning his corpse.”

Noctis couldn’t agree more. 

* * *

Noctis kept fast-forwarding through the footage. Gladio eventually came to join him, watching with a grim set to his jaw as Prompto hung suspended.

“It's been hours, hasn't it? That’s gonna kill his hips and back,” he muttered, anger simmering behind his tongue. Neither of them could do anything about it, eirher.

They found Ardyn entering the room again only a few hours later in the footage. Prompto took longer to wake up to his presence that time, and Gladio scowled as Ardyn squared up, crossing his arms, and tossed his head back.

“He’s imitating me.” Gladio scowled. “What the fuck did you make me say?” 

Sure enough, when Prompto did lift his head, it was with a weak rasp of _“Gl-gladio?”_

_“Yeah.”_ It was a pale imitation of Gladio's drawl, but Noctis knew by now that even a little went a long way when Ardyn broke out the evil powers.

_“I… are you gonna let me down?”_

Ardyn sniffed and swaggered a few steps closer, hands coming to rest on his hips. _“Honestly, I should be thanking you for not letting me down. Finally listening when you’re told to do something. We told you to stay out of the way.”_

Gladio clenched his jaw as Prompto on-screen hung his head. Noctis glanced back. Prompto was still fast asleep, with Ignis holding his hand tight.

Prompto, in the record and hanging limp in the apparatus, pleaded, _“I only ever wanted to help Noct. I never meant to hurt any of you, never, you’re my friends-”_

Ardyn actually opened the cell door and sauntered towards Prompto. _“That’s where you keep mucking it up. We’re not friends.”_ Noctis heard Gladio’s teeth grind as Ardyn put his face too close to Prompto’s. _“We were teammates, but beyond that, we’re just stuck together because we have to be and - newsflash - we don’t need you anymore.”_

Noctis wished he had a piece of coal to put into Gladio’s clenched fist. The diamond they’d get back might actually make this worth it. Then, the anguish on Prompto’s face in the recording reminded him that _nothing_ would make this worth it.

_“You’re finally out of our way. And if this is what it takes for us to accomplish our missions, no distractions, no whiny little pest tripping over his own feet, no traitor in our midst-”_ Suddenly, Ardyn grabbed Prompto’s wrist where the skin was already broken and squeezed - Noctis saw the skin change color under his thumb, and Gladio seemed to inflate with red-hot rage beside him. 

Prompto, again, cried out, _“I’m not, I’d never hurt Noct, Gladio-!”_

_“One way to be sure you won’t.”_ Ardyn about-faced and let go all at once, and Prompto panted through the pain. _“We’ll figure out what to do with you eventually. Might just be ‘leave you to rot.’”_

_“Gladio, please, you can lock me up, at least let me sit on the ground!”_

“He doesn’t even want me to let him go anymore,” Gladio choked out through the fire in his lungs. “He just wants to hurt _less._ Fucking shit, Noct!”

_“We were friends,”_ Prompto whimpered into the empty cell. _“I thought you cared…”_

Gladio’s rage finally broke over into something else, and he spun around and rushed towards Prompto. “I care,” he growled to Prompto, as he slept on. “I care so much, dammit. I’d never leave you behind if I could help it, I’ll carry you from here to Insomnia if I have to, because you deserve to be cared about that much!” Prompto stirred, and Ignis reached in to press his palm onto Gladio’s chest.

“Please,” he implored, “Tell him when he’s awake.” 

Gladio’s bravado vanished, and he nodded. Noctis saw his eyes were red and wet when he turned back around. He rejoined Noctis, staring at Prompto’s sagging form on the bar. “How long has he been strapped to that thing?”

Noctis checked the timestamps. “Almost eighteen hours. Looks like this was taken maybe nine hours ago, if the times are correct.”

Gladio glanced over his shoulder, still looking grim and angry. “I’m getting him a massage when we get him back to Lucis. Full service, whole works. We’ll find a place that makes him the curry he likes, and rent the big suite at the Leville, let him have the giant bed and give him all the pillows he needs and pamper him from now until he’s so damn sick of being loved he can’t take it anymore.”

“Yeah.” Noctis bit his lip. “As soon as we’re home safe, he’s going to get everything he deserves.”

Because, both of them knew, he didn’t deserve any of this.

* * *

Noctis really didn’t want to know what Ardyn had made Ignis say. However, there was a morbidly curious part of him that did. Moreover, he knew Ignis had been listening to every audible exchange the entire time, and could see Ignis holding his hand so, so tight whenever Noctis turned the volume on. He knew Ignis wanted to know, if only so he could know what sore spot Ignis had to soothe.

So, when Ardyn sauntered back into Prompto’s cell again, Noctis slowed down the footage and turned the volume up. 

“What are you doing now, you snake,” he growled, as Ardyn unlatched Prompto from the apparatus.

_“There now, easy now. Down we go.”_ Ardyn caught Prompto as he fell out and lowered him to the ground. _“That’s good. Can you hear me? Anything at all?”_ Prompto just stared up at him, completely gobsmacked, and Ardyn shook his head. _“No? Pity.”_

“Prompto can’t hear him,” Noctis said, astounded. “He's talking like he normally does and Prompto can't hear him. I think whatever he was saying before was basically being forced into his head. Maybe that’s why it’s stuck there so good.”

“A reasonable deduction,” Ignis murmured. “He seemed to hear everything that was being said to him in the earlier recordings, and yet now…”

In the recording, Ardyn had sat Prompto against the wall and put a bowl and spoon into Prompto’s hand. _“Eat up while it’s hot.”_ Prompto didn’t make a move to eat, instead looking at the bowl like he wasn’t sure it was there. _“You do need nourishment, you know. Eat, eat.”_

Gladio was at Noctis’ shoulder now, and Ignis had twisted in his chair. “What’d he give him?”

“Looks like cereal from here,” Noctis muttered. “You think he put something in it?”

“Dunno.” Gladio grunted and wrinkled his nose. “How long was Prompto on the rack?”

“About twenty hours at this point.” Noctis grimaced as he put it together. “He probably didn’t care if Ardyn had put something in it by then.”

Sure enough, after a minute of sniffing and studying the bowl, Prompto began to shovel a few spoonfuls in. Ardyn stood between him and the shut door, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. _“It pains me to do this to you. I used to be a healer, you know. I had the power to help people. Now I have to torture innocent young men for no other reason than their association.”_ Noctis frowned and cocked his head, as across the room, Ignis’ chin dropped to his chest. Prompto had stopped eating, instead looking up at Ardyn as if waiting for an explanation, or for Ardyn to repeat himself, say more, or for some sort of understanding. Ardyn merely motioned for Prompto to take another bite. _“Surely that’s not enough. You need to eat.”_

Prompto didn’t try to eat more; his fingers were trembling on the bowl. Ardyn let out a sigh, then took the bowl, put it aside, and hauled Prompto to his feet. Noctis stood from his chair as Ardyn dragged him out, with Prompto resisting the whole way into the hall and out of the camera’s view. Noctis heard what Ardyn was saying, though - _“I imagine you’ll want the necessary. Perhaps that will help your appetite.”_

“What the hell does that mean?” Noctis whipped around on Gladio, who looked baffled but not nearly as alarmed. “What the hell-”

“Necessary is an old-timey word for ‘bathroom.’” Gladio shook his head. “Like, if Prompto’s been tied up for that long, he’s likely either pissed himself or gotten a UTI from holding it.”

Ignis cleared his throat. “Do you think you can go back and find where Ardyn took him? I sincerely doubt the bathroom was far from the cell, there would have been too much risk for Prompto to escape if it was.”

Gladio and Noctis traded a look, then played Rochambeau. Paper beat rock, and Gladio hustled out and down the hall. Noctis sat and returned to watching the video, speeding up the footage until Ardyn returned. The first time, it was just to grab the abandoned bowl and depart, and he soon reappeared and put the same bowl on top of a machine in the corner of the room, then left again. The next time, however, he was dragging Prompto by the arms again. Prompto was still struggling, mumbling incoherently as Ardyn shoved him back into the cell.

_“Now, now, no time for that. They’re close now, likely only a matter of hours.”_ He shoved Prompto against the wall, forced him to the floor, and pushed the bowl back into his hands. _“Eat. I beg of you.”_ Noctis frowned, as Prompto looked between Ardyn and the bowl, and finally made himself eat, silently squirming under Ardyn’s gaze. After a moment, Gladio returned to the bunk room.

“Pretty sure I found where Ardyn took him.” Gladio dropped two familiar articles on one of the other beds nearby - Prompto’s brace and his battered, tattered armor. “There’s a rinky-dink bathroom in the middle of the hall. Toilet and sink. Not much bigger than a coat closet. Looks like Prompto washed himself up in the sink, based on all the paper towels I found in the trash, and did whatever else you do in a bathroom when you haven’t had a bathroom in twenty hours, and not much else. No blood or evidence of a fight. Just, Ardyn didn’t give him a chance to put his brace back on.”

“Small mercies, then,” Ignis muttered.

Prompto had stopped eating. Ardyn cocked his head a few times as Prompto started then aborted another bite a few times, then finally dropped the spoon. Ardyn shrugged and removed the bowl from Prompto’s hands. _“If that’s all I can convince you to eat…”_ Suddenly, he gripped Prompto by the arm, pressing in on his wrist. Prompto cried out when Ardyn pulled him back up to his feet, pleading and begging:

_“Please, please, no, please!”_

Ardyn didn’t respond to Prompto’s pleas and shoved him back into the restraints with surprising ease, and clamped him in. His expression didn’t even shift from a devil-may-care smirk, as Prompto’s pleas for mercy devolved into wordless cries. Across the room, Ignis put his face in his hands, and Gladio approached him.

“You don’t have to listen to this,” he told him softly. “You don’t have to. You can go wait in the hall. We can turn it off.”

“We need to know,” Ignis growled, surprisingly vehement despite the ragged, raw sorrow bleeding out of him. 

Then, Ardyn did say something: _“I’m sorry I have to do this to you. I promise it’ll only be a bit longer.”_

Noctis’ eyes widened.

_“After all,”_ Ardyn murmured as he turned around. _“I have to make that boy hate me. When the time comes, when the gods deem it time for him to end this pathetic life, I would rather he not hesitate for a second.”_

Ignis and Gladio had both turned around. Ignis frowning and silently mouthing Ardyn’s words, and Gladio cocking his head, finally exclaiming: “What the hell?” 

“He wants me to kill him?” Noctis frowned. “But…”

“There’s an explanation.” Ignis shook his head. “There’s an explanation, and we don’t yet have it.”

Gladio’s fists were already clenched, and he ground out, “I don’t care what his reason for it is, he put his hands on Prompto!”

“But… he was keeping him alive.” Noctis frowned and twisted back towards Prompto. Prompto had rolled over, face working in his sleep, still gnawing on his lower lip. “He actually let Prompto eat and clean himself up. He could have just left Prompto there to die. He probably knew how close we were, but he didn’t want Prompto to starve or get hurt.”

“You’ve heard the stuff he’s been making us say!” Gladio snapped back. “You heard him! If that ain’t torture, I don’t know what is!”

_“Guys,”_ Prompto rasped from on screen, hoarse from shouting. _“Please…”_

Noctis watched the feed again, Prompto hanging limp and weak in his bonds. He sagged lower than ever. That taste of relief had only left him more exhausted. 

“He didn’t want Prompto to die,” Noctis finally concluded. “He wanted us to see him suffer.”

Noctis fast-forwarded again, as Gladio returned to Prompto’s side, worry warping every feature in his face. Scarcely two hours later in the footage, Noctis saw light fill Prompto’s cell, and Prompto lifted his head. He slowed the feed, and cringed when Prompto spoke:

_“Iggy. You’re here.”_

“No,” Ignis said aloud from his chair, lifting his head, his good eye going wide. “No, please, _gods._ ”

_“So you are,”_ Ardyn replied nonchalantly. His tone barely changed at all from his usual manner of speech; oh, how easily he channeled Ignis’ mannerisms. _“I merely wished to know for myself.”_

“Noctis, I beg of you, please, this is a conversation between lovers-” Ignis stood and hurried towards Noctis. “I know he is merely imitating me, but do not-”

_“They told you. They told you I’m… I’m Niff.”_

Noctis blocked Ignis from reaching the computer. “Go in the hall if you can't listen. You know we have to know what he said.”

“Noctis, this is between Prompto and I, I fear he will say something that should not be divulged-!”

_“I knew that. We always did.”_ Ignis flinched at Ardyn’s words, as Ardyn snarled, _“But to know that you’re a clone - not even that. A defective clone.”_

“ _Defective_ \- gods, no,” Ignis shook his head. “Darling, whatever nonsense he’s saying-”

Ardyn clicked his tongue. _“How foolish we were, to have missed that.”_ Prompto had slumped in his bonds, shivering. Ignis grabbed at the monitor.

“There’s nothing wrong with you! There’s never been anything wrong with you!” He turned to Noctis, desperate. “Turn it off, I beg you, turn it off, it can’t be-”

“This is what he said,” Noctis insisted, but his own heart felt like it was cracking at the rage and panic in Ignis’ face. “We need to know what he said. Whatever lies Ardyn told him, we need to hear it.”

Ardyn had entered the cell and sauntered towards Prompto in his bonds. Prompto didn’t even lift his eyes. Noctis spoke aloud: “He’s in the cell with Prompto.”

“No!” Ignis covered his mouth, but Gladio approached and grabbed his arm.

“It’s alright, he’s safe now. We’re going to take care of him now. We just need to know what he did so we can fix it.”

_“Ignis… just let me out. Let me go.”_ Prompto squeezed his eyes shut on screen. Noctis could see his face was wet already. Ardyn scoffed.

_“And why would I? All these years, you’ve lied.”_ Ardyn shook his head like a disappointed parent. 

Prompto let out a sob, then gasped out, _“I didn’t know, I never knew! I’ve just been trying to live the life I’ve been given, the only way I knew how!”_ He lifted his head, looking Ardyn right in the face as Ardyn impassively stared back. _“I only ever wanted friends! I wanted to be loved! I wanted a place to belong!”_ Ardyn sighed softly as Prompto begged, raw and raspy. _“I thought it was you, Iggy, I thought you lo-”_

Ardyn wound his arm back and struck Prompto across the face with an audible _smack_. Prompto yelped with pain, and Ignis recoiled. Noctis noticed that one of Ardyn’s rings had scraped across the abrasion on Prompto’s nose, making it bleed again. 

Gladio tensed. “Son of a bitch.” 

Ignis, however, recoiled, and spun about. “Where the devil is he?!”

_“Don’t you dare,”_ Ardyn snarled. _“You still try to emotionally manipulate me? You may be a good liar, and I may be blind, but don’t think I can’t see through such foolishness.”_

“Iggy,” Noctis muttered, “It’s not real. We will show him it’s not real, that wasn’t you. Prompto will know it.”

Prompto’s voice wobbled from the speakers, every word making Ignis tense: _“Please, think of the baby, they deserve a good life. I promise I’ll take care of ‘em, just let me go. I’ll go back to Lucis quietly, I’ll f-figure something-”_

_“This is your place.”_ Ardyn purred, confident and devastating. _“It’s either here, or a shallow grave with the rest of the MTs.”_ Ignis’ shoulders sank, and Noctis watched Prompto slump over, as if his hope of Ignis’ rescue was the last tether holding him up. _“Whether your dreams of a normal life are illusion or delusion, they are just figments of your wild mind. If there is, in fact, a baby, and given what you are I cannot even be certain of what’s inside of you, then we’ll deal with it if it makes an appearance.”_

“We saw them, darling,” Ignis whispered. “We heard them. Our Nox, our Luna, they are so very real, please believe that I want nothing more than to have the two of you at my side...”

Ardyn retreated, shutting the cell door loudly. Prompto didn’t flinch.

_“However, you remain here. In Niflheim. In the Keep.”_ Ardyn tugged the cell door shut for emphasis. _“Consider yourself fortunate I’ve not worked up the heart to kill you like I’ve killed every other MT I’ve met up until now.”_

With that, Ardyn walked away. Prompto didn’t struggle, didn’t move. Blood sluggishly trailed down his face from his scraped nose. Ignis stared into the screen as if he could see it, and Noctis had to tell him: “He’s not moving, Iggy. He’s just hanging there on that bar.”

“He’s given up,” Ignis whispered, as if he already knew the inside of Prompto’s mind. “He’s… he’s not even trying. He doesn’t think there’s anything left for him but the inside of that cell.” 

The feed cut suddenly. Noctis frowned. The camera view changed completely, instead showing a snow-covered field, a recording taken through trees. “Hey. It’s somewhere else now-”

There was a roar of a motor, and a snowmobile sped past the camera’s view. Gladio pointed at the screen. “Hey, that was Prompto!”

Noctis backed the footage up and froze it, and saw that Gladio was right - Prompto, on the back of a snowmobile being driven by Aranea. His jaw fell, as he saw that Prompto was manning the gun and firing back at something. “He’s on a snowmobile with Aranea, and they’re being chased, I think-”

“By what?” Ignis asked, leaning in again. 

Noctis hit play again, and the footage continued. A second after Prompto and Aranea vanished from the screen, there was a mechanical grind, and a massive metal serpent with grinding, spinning jaws and laser guns on the outside. Gladio’s jaw fell, and Noctis stared dumbly as all five-hundred feet of it roared past the camera feed.

“I don’t even know what the fuck that was,” Gladio said, “but it’s fucking huge.” 

“Giant Magitek,” Noctis rasped, hardly believing what his eyes told him and what was coming out of his mouth. “He and Aranea are running from a giant Magitek and Prompto’s trying to shoot it.” 

Ignis’ shades slid to the end of his nose as his face went slack with shock. “He’s doing what?”

The camera feed changed again, a different still angle like a security camera on a post, as Aranea and Prompto’s snowmobile sped towards it, giving Noctis another view of that metal beast. He hadn’t even begun to comprehend the scale of it; the Angellus armors weren’t anywhere near that big. _Leviathan_ couldn’t have been that big. Gladio’s jaw hung open as the whole beast trailed by, and just kept coming.

“You two have gotten quiet.” Ignis tugged Noctis’ sleeve sharply, urgently. “Please, please. Whatever is-”

“That is the biggest Magitek ever,” Noctis blurted. Ignis inhaled sharply. 

“And. Prompto. Is being chased by it.”

“He's riding side-saddle on a snowmobile, shooting back at it with a machine gun, and knocking all of its lights out.” Gladio covered his mouth. _“Holy shit.”_

The camera angle changed again, and showed the snowmobile speeding along, until the giant Magitek thumped the ground, bouncing the snowmobile in the air, and Prompto tumbled off. He caught himself on his hands and knees, then looked up and directly into the Magitek’s face. There was no audio, but Noctis could see the determination in his eyes. He summoned up the _biggest goddamn bazooka_ Noctis had ever seen, and fired it over and over at the Magitek’s maw. When it blew to pieces, it threw Prompto back twenty feet, and all Noctis could see was the flashing light and smoke from the thing exploding. 

“How loud do you think that explosion was?” Noctis asked, almost unnecessarily. Ignis covered his mouth.

“Explosion?”

“Yeah, he blew it up.” Gladio grabbed his lower jaw, rubbing his hands down his beard. “At point blank range. It knocked him off balance.”

Ignis was silent for a moment, his hand sliding down to press over his chest. “That,” he murmured, “would explain the hearing loss.” Ignis stood and returned to Prompto’s side, taking his seat and pulling Prompto’s hand into his. “You had no idea, did you, darling? You were just trying to survive…”

The video feed cut back to the cell, showed Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis entering, taking Prompto down, Prompto cringing on the floor even as Ignis reached for him. Noctis didn’t need to hear that part. He closed the video window, and threw himself to the back of the computer chair.

It had answered a lot of questions but Noctis still wanted to hear it from Prompto. He wanted to talk to his friend, hear all about the days they’d been apart, find out where he’d ended up, what that _thing_ he’d fought was, why he’d risked his life chasing it. He wanted to apologize for everything Ardyn had said, repair all of those lies and replace them with truth, but he couldn’t. Because Prompto couldn’t _hear him._

Prompto was still asleep, as comfortable as could be. Noctis didn’t know how comfortable that was, but at least he looked peaceful for now. He didn’t look forward to Prompto waking up again, unsure and frightened, and communicating by pad and pen until Prompto’s ears recovered from their trauma, if they ever did. The rest of the trauma was a black hole, intangible, immeasurable, incomprehensible: more damage than could ever be repaired in a lifetime. 

Noctis knew trauma, intimately, like one lover knew another, like the Astrals knew their Messengers. He’d lived with it for years and years, existing with it wrapped around his body. It was in his veins, in his bones, it lived behind his eyes. He’d become armored to it, inured, insensate, so much so that during those few moments when he woke up after the encounter with Leviathan and had forgotten his entire life and the pain that had come with that history, he’d been alien in his own body. Remembering all over again and incorporating the new scars was almost as painful as the first time his pain had been etched into him, and he still ached. He would never stop hurting. 

Prompto deserved better than that. 

Noctis hated that he had never been allowed to do much for Prompto. Ignis and his father had been firm with him, if he continued in public school, he was to avoid those who were attempting to attach themselves to him for social grift or financial gain. Prompto was never like that. The few times Noctis did try to shove his then-endless wallet at his problems - his torn school jacket, his crashed Gamestation, the crack in his camera lens - Prompto had cheerfully demurred and promised to take care of it himself. He only took close-ups while he saved money, his jacket reappeared with rough hand-stitches down the seam, Prompto got hooked on mobile games. He’d tried to be emotionally supportive, but he sucked at emotions. He just tried to handle him as gently as he could, to be honest with him, to let him lean on him so he could lean back. He could never be as vulnerable around anyone as Prompto, and Prompto clearly appreciated it. It felt so good. 

Noctis still thought it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough to reward the years of simple love Prompto had offered him. 

He turned back to the computer, staring at the home screen, and let out a sigh. When he lifted his eyes, however, there was a new folder on the screen, one he was sure wasn’t there before. He opened it and found a scanned document, with neat handwriting on the first page:

_COURTESY OF THE NIFLHEIM R &D DEPARTMENT. _

Then, there were technical specifications. Noctis couldn’t make heads or tails of most of it, but he could recognize some of it - one of their headsets. A few crossed wires, pictorial instructions. A diagram showing someone wearing the re-done headset, indicating that it was a conversion, taking the sound audible from the mouthpiece and emitting it into the ear.

Courtesy of the Niflheim R&D Department? 

“Ardyn sent us this,” Noctis muttered, turning it over in his head. “Ardyn’s realized Prompto can’t hear and…”

As Noctis trailed off, Gladio appeared at his shoulder and scanned over the screen with a glance. “Well, shit. Prompto’s done more with machines with less information.” He pushed off the table and pivoted for the door. “We have our headsets, he can have ‘em. I’ll find a toolbox.”

Noctis found a printer under the table and moved to hook it up, only to find a yellow envelope left on top of it. He opened it and found that someone had already printed the instructions. Noctis pulled off that damning top page and stuffed it in the trash. Ignis had turned his head towards them to listen. 

“Can we be certain it will work, and that it won’t harm him?”

“It doesn’t look like Ardyn wrote all of it.” Noctis approached, then stopped short. Prompto was still soundly asleep. He carefully wrote a note, ready for when Prompto woke. “I think we should at least try it. I don’t know how much worse it could be.” He read his note over: “I think this will let us turn the Bluetooth headsets we have into a makeshift hearing aid. If we get some tools, can you do it?”

Ignis took up the pen and felt along the paper for the grooves of the pen’s imprint, then wrote beneath it: _“You’re the best with machines out of all of us. We have four you can try to do it on. It’s okay if you can’t, we would just like you to try.”_

Gladio returned with the toolbox and what looked like a tray for someone in bed to eat on. “I figure, he might need a hard surface to work on.” He crossed his arms with his finds still hanging off his fingers, brow knit up. “Should we try to wake him up?”

“Please, don’t,” Ignis murmured. “I _felt_ how he jumped away the last time any of us tried to touch him unexpectedly. He’ll wake up soon, I’m certain.”

Noctis cringed, because he’d seen it. He never wanted to see Prompto that afraid ever again. Still, he held his breath and leaned in, then gently patted his shoulder.

“Hey, man. It’s me.”

Prompto blinked his eyes open, and Noctis backed off as he looked around to each of them. Noctis held his breath for a second, waiting for Prompto to panic, waiting to have to reassure him that he was who he said he was. Instead, Prompto finally settled on meeting Noctis’ eye, and Noctis held out the note. He saw Prompto’s gaze roll over the letters, then return to him.

“Please,” Noctis said softly. 

Prompto frowned, then looked to Ignis. Noctis nudged Ignis’ shoulder. “Iggy, tell him it’s okay. He’s looking at you.”

Ignis smiled wryly, then turned his face towards Prompto and spoke in that careful, deliberate way that ensured Prompto could read his lips and hear as much as possible: “I believe in you, love. If I can help at all, say the word.” 

Prompto was silent, processing, then nodded. “I’ll try it.” Noctis sighed with relief as Gladio moved in and set up the table. Noctis opened the envelope, which Prompto examined with a mutter of “Fuck Verstael Besithia,” and though Gladio shot him a quizzical look (because seriously, who was that?), Noctis shook his head and kept setting up the workspace. Noctis was curious, but what was more important was that _gods_ , maybe after all that Noctis had taken from his friends, he could give just a little of it back. 

Ignis sat by restlessly as Prompto worked, and Gladio stood by and observed. Noctis couldn’t make himself look. He ate his long-cold Cup Noodles while glancing over every once in a while. Prompto was intently focused, his tongue unconsciously poking out between his teeth occasionally. Noctis did scribble a quick note to check and see if he needed anything, but Prompto declined. A few times he beckoned Gladio over to hold something in place while he used a little heat wand to melt some sort of shiny metal over the wires he was moving. 

Noctis forgot sometimes how nimble Prompto was with machines. How easily he cleaned and reassembled his guns, how he refurbished bits and pieces scavenged off of the MT armors into weapons. It was so weird to think someone he loved just for being him had so much more in his depths. Noctis didn’t care as much about what Prompto did or could do for him. He just wanted his friend to be happy.

After a while, Prompto announced: “I’m giving it a try.” 

Noctis looked up from spacing out to see Prompto holding up the headset. It didn’t look any different from here, but it was what was inside that counted, right? He hurried over to Prompto’s bedside as Prompto pushed his messy hair from his ear, pressed the switch on the side to turn the headset on, and tucked it into his ear. 

His eyes went huge, like he had just woken up from a nightmare, and he turned his head around the room. Noctis held his breath, waiting for someone to break the silence, to test the waters, to see if Prompto was back with them. Ignis was the one to reach out:

“Better, love?”

The surprise, delight, and wonderment on Prompto’s face spoke volumes, every facet of the emotion rippling across his features like a stone dropped into a pool. Noctis leaned in and asked, voice small, “Can you hear me?”

Prompto’s mouth spread into a brilliant, delighted smile. “I can - yeah.” His voice rose to a pitch, and Noctis grinned back. “I can hear you-” 

Ignis seized Prompto’s hands with delight. “Good show, darling!”

Prompto, overjoyed, tugged Ignis’ hands closer. “Say it again. Please. I need to - I want to - Iggy, it feels like it’s been forever.”

Noctis let the two of them embrace. He didn’t roll his eyes or pretend to gag. He let them have each other. They each deserved that much, and much, much more.

As the two of them leaned into one another, as Ignis sagged with relief, reassured that Prompto was back with them, as Prompto laughed and cried at the same time and Gladio closed in to reassure him that he was safe, that they’d rescued him, that they were going to take him to safety, Noctis recognized that there was so much more to deal with than just his hearing. Prompto needed to be really taken care of. 

The world had gone to hell all around them, and Prompto had somehow ended up underfoot some of the worst of it. He didn’t deserve to be tormented for the machinations of some madman, and he didn’t deserve to be weighed down by secrets and pain. Noctis would take him home, make sure he got therapy, rest, an actual evaluation by real doctors, and whatever he needed to be happy and comfortable for the rest of his life. Maybe it was impossible for the two of them to go back to the simpler days of playing video games together and laughing and forgetting the rest of the world, but Noctis could be his reprieve, when all was said and done. However, first, Noctis was going to save the world for him, because there was no other way he could really give Prompto what he deserved.

Whatever it took, Noctis was going to make this better. That was what you did for someone you loved.


End file.
